


Playing With Fire

by strugglingateverything



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-10 07:43:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19902217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strugglingateverything/pseuds/strugglingateverything
Summary: Brock was a beautiful man and an even more beautiful dancer. The way he moved his body was mesmerizing for any who saw him, but he was a heartbreaker. Vanessa knew that sleeping with Brock was not the best decision, she was playing with fire and eventually she would get burned





	1. Chapter 1

Vanessa could feel the pit in her stomach, this wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed to at least make it past the first episode. They had read her to the ground, the easy smile she wore sliding off her face as Michelle critiqued her outfit.

Fucking Monet giving her those goddamn Barbie dolls, she knew she would have to lip sync, there was no question, they hated everything on her body.

So she listened to the song and unsuccessfully tried prepare herself for what was to come. Walking back to the main stage was nerve wracking and hearing her name called to lip sync felt even worse, the pit in her stomach grew. Lip syncing was what she did, and usually it was an enjoyable experience, but this time it seemed to go by in a stressful flash of purple stage lights.

Once the music stopped she held her position while taking deep breaths through her mouth. The blur of Ru’s deliberation and Kalorie being deemed safe bring her back to her body. Everyone was staring as Ru dismissed her, there were no thoughts in her brain. 

The embarrassment overshadowed every emotion she wasn’t fully comprehending in the moment, everything the people who cared about her had worked on was now useless. She walked backwards and said her name just so she wouldn’t be forgotten like most of the first outs.

When she cried her makeup off in the bathroom she panicked, Alexis would know immediately that she didn’t make it far, hell she barely made it through the door before she was kicked off. The packing up of her stuff was the worst because the cameras were on and she had to pretend that she wasn’t internally freaking the fuck out.

The ride to the airport and the plane ride back to Florida were a blur of silent crying and the need for someone to wrap their arms around her and say that everything would be okay. When she got back home, there was Alexis and everyone else in the Mateo family. The comfort and support helped her get through the months of waiting, she couldn’t work because of her contract and she couldn’t tell anyone how she did.

Once the cast was announced the press week and promotions were a whirlwind and she could almost forget that she was the first person eliminated. Through those weeks she got closer to the other queens and the bookings were coming in like the world was ending. Everyone wanted a Ru girl performing at their club or bar so she took every gig that was offered without a second thought.

Then the first episode aired, she waited with bated breath for the disappointment and stamp of irrelevancy to be printed on her forehead. It never came and surprisingly people loved her even more, despite her only saying her name three times while walking backwards and barely holding back tears.

The messages of support and love came poring in while the memes and jokes started. Every Facebook message, and Instagram comment, and Twitter mention were about her for the first episode. People would write her with stories of encouragement and when they called her for the next season once episode two aired she accepted. There was no reason for her to hesitate, everyone wanted to book ‘Miss Vanjie’, the initial embarrassment gave way to pride, pride in the fact that people remembered her from thirty seconds of nonsense in the midst of a breakdown.

Everything moved faster after that. Money was made and she packed her shit and went to the next job. The designers she worked with were eager to collaborate and she had more money to actually spend on making herself look and feel good, then she had a gig in Nashville.

Play was a popular club and she performed just like any night. Kameron wasn’t there but it was her home bar and she received just as much love, especially from the local queens. The dancers and random men were peppered throughout the club after she had finished her numbers and changed her outfit.

She still had a full face on, but she was still feeling the fantasy so she got drunk and grinded along with the crowd of dancing bodies. Familiar faces popped up, and an old hookup did as well. He was a well known dancer, one that had worked with her before and the House of Mateo.

Brock was a beautiful man and an even more beautiful dancer. The way he moved his body was mesmerizing for any who saw him, but he was a heartbreaker. Vanessa knew that sleeping with Brock was not the best decision, she was playing with fire and eventually she would get burned.

But for now she was feeling a subtle burn, one that made its way through her veins and lit her up from the inside. She knew that they would inevitably fall into bed with each other, in someone’s room and she knew that by the morning light she would limp out the door leaving only a kiss on the forehead and a cologne trail, on her way to the next city.

They were dancing closer and closer until the only thing between them were their clothes. The position they were in was one that was all too familiar, over the years they had a pattern that she didn’t want to disrupt, especially not with feelings, ones she definitely, resolutely did not have for him.

When the heated contact and increasingly tight grip on her ass became too much they said their goodbyes and the cool air that the dark outside provided should have sobered her up, should have convinced her that this is not a good decision especially when she should be preparing for the season she’s about to be thrust in, but it doesn’t, and the hand in hers is warm and bigger than hers so she follows it.

She doesn’t remember the ride to his house. He lived here, she forgot. The wandering hand she had caused him to swerve the car and curse at her, but it remained high up on his thigh. When they finally made it to the door and as he searched through his keys she started kissing up his neck. His fumbling hands got the key in the lock and he had just barely gotten them both inside and locked away when she jumped up and climbed him like a tree.

If she was going to make a mistake once again, she was going to enjoy herself a much as she could. The grip on her thighs and hard muscle pressing into her made her head spin, it was almost like they were getting intoxicated from their passion. Slow steps were made, mostly because it was dark and carrying a small person who attacked you with their kisses was probably hard to maneuver, no matter how experienced you were.

Brock somehow got them both to his bedroom where he gently sat both of them down on the big bed. Vanessa’s hands immediately flew to his belt while he kissed around her tattoo. The belt was unbuckled and her hand made its way inside his underwear without any fanfare, it was just a big and thick as it always was. 

She moaned. It wasn’t a practiced moan, one that she would usually use to entice a stranger, it was unrestrained and completely involuntary. Brock, encouraged by her response continued his ministrations while he undressed her as much as he could while trying not to interrupt himself. 

Once she had removed his underwear as much as she could she started tugging on his shirt. Brock got the unspoken message and started shedding his shirt while taking her pants and underwear off and throwing them. She knew that she would be picking them up in a few hours, but that was unimportant as Brock took her in his mouth.

The warmth from his mouth brought all the thoughts in her head to a grinding halt. It felt too good, this was the downside to sleeping with Brock, he was too good and they had too much chemistry. There was never any awkward fumbling or missteps, they were completely in sync, except for the f-word.

Feelings. Vanessa has seen Brock drop more than a few men for even suggesting a hint of something more than just fucking. Maybe it was the delusional romantic in her but she thought that the relationship she had with him was different. They went out to eat, they danced and partied together, they had even met each other’s families. Brock knew where she was through text updates and she knew where was dancing at any given time. 

But they weren’t dating, and despite Vanessa being a hopeless romantic she would never bring up the topic to him. If he reacted badly then she was shit out of luck, it wasn’t just the sex, it was the conversations that they had in between their clandestine rendezvous in various cities throughout the U.S.

Her worries were vanishing into thin air as Brock bobbed his head and swiveled his neck to take more of her into his mouth. The hand that had been pinching her nipples was getting more handsy and the other hand was inching towards her neck. The hand was closing around her neck and she was getting closer to shouting out his name in ecstasy.

Before she could even open her mouth he stopped and almost ripped her shirt off in his haste to get it off. They were finally fully naked and she reached into his drawer for a condom and lube. Even though it was his house she knew where everything was, not even attempting to unpack that thought her hand closed around a condom and lube.

Brock took them from her hand and started kissing her as he lubed up his fingers. The sensuous kisses were relaxing and the large fingers that probed her, were entering her more and more with each thrust, he made his way down her body. As Brock twisted his fingers, the kisses around her thighs and stomach were hard and bruising, she knew she would have to cover them up before others saw them. When he stopped and the pressure roiling in her stomach almost came to a head, she left out a frustrated moan, it was almost his sixth sense, knowing when she was dangerously close to falling off that ledge.

The condom is quickly rolled onto the taller man and when he enters her slowly, she lets out a gasp. Thrusting slowly Brock leaned over her and supported himself just using his arms, the pressure was immense and if he touched her she would combust immediately. As the heat built up between their bodies and Brock’s skin gained a sheen, she felt more overwhelmed, this was the first time she’d had sex since she left for Drag Race. That last time was coincidentally with Brock, which is still not something she’s going to unpack, any time soon.

She could tell that he was getting close and if he kept touching her like that, she knew that there was going to be a mess. When his larger hand closed around her she jumped and started humping into his hand, the motion in sync with his thrusting. The moans couldn’t be stopped, they were ripped out of her throat and shouted into the dark bedroom. It only took less than a minute before she exploded on his chest and the minute space between their bodies, Brock wasn’t far behind and the previously controlled thrusts were becoming more jerky and harsh. Finally they slowed down as his body started to shake and the grip on her hips got even more tight, the extrication process was slow and as Brock took off the condom he left to the bathroom after a rushed kiss on the cheek. 

Vanessa was still too blissed out to even register his absence, the cooling sweat on her body caused a chill to wrack her body and the weightless bones her body had become caused her to just lay there. When heavy footsteps got closer she turned her head slightly to see a warm, soaped up washcloth wiping down her body. Brock was already wearing shorts and when he left again she tried to will herself to sit up.

He came back again and as gently as possible they started the process of taking off her makeup that had somehow mostly survived, with every swipe of the makeup wipe and with the removal of eyelashes, Vanessa became Jose. This was a familiar routine, one that surprisingly Brock started himself. There was no need for pretenses and waking up with a full face of heavy makeup was fun for no one. 

A large, almost draping t-shirt was pulled over his head and he was swaddled into blankets by the time Brock was settled back into the bed and cradling him along with the covers. And when his eyes slip closed, enclosed in a comforting warmth and smell, he can’t think of a better place to be.

/////////////

A blaring alarm that is hauntingly familiar is what wakes him, it’s been a constant for the past few months and it signaled the imminent end to his visit and closeness Brock. He forced himself to get out of the arms of the still slumbering man and into the shower. When he examines his body through the beads of water, the darkening bruises and bite marks are littered throughout his upper, and upon closer examination, lower body as well. 

He knew that his flight would be leaving within the next few hours so the hustle to the airport was starting the minute he left the hot steam. Once he leaves the bathroom, sleepy green eyes greet him from a tousled bed. They follow him as he starts putting on his clothes with rushed energy and barely contained sleepiness. His stumbles to put on shoes while standing are interrupted by Brock holding him upright as he made his way to the bathroom.

When he came out Vanessa was sitting distracted on the phone, already holding a steaming cup of coffee. He plucked it and took large sips while picking up his bags, once the cup left his hand he followed him out and the unspoken agreement was fulfilled, he was going to be seeing him off, like he did every time they saw each other.

The drive to the airport was far too long and far too short in his opinion, the mundane small talk and outrageous stories swapped between them cause the car to be filled with laughter and slaps to the shoulder. Once Brock stopped the car in front of his terminal, the car was filled with a silence. Brock sighed and Vanessa could tell that something was weighing him down, he would tell him eventually, or so he hoped. Once he checked his phone for the time, he hopped out and he was just as helpful with bags, a crushing hug that almost lifted him off the ground and a quick peck were given.

“See you soon.”

“You too, stay outta trouble.” He could feel eyes on his back as he walked through the glass doors, off to the next city.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time Vanessa even sees Brock’s face it’s through a grainy FaceTime, both of them getting ready for a gig.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re doing DragCon?” Vanessa opened her mouth and applied thick coats of mascara while also trying to watch Brock get dressed.

“I thought you knew. Hamburger Mary’s snatched me up so you’ll be seeing me right across the carpet.” Brock tried to unravel the chest harness, with no real success.

“Well I hope your fine ass is prepared to put on a show. This is my first time doing anything like this, and the fucking booth set up is stressing my ADD ass out. It’s like you have to have this and that, and the merch has to be there, and the outfits have to be finished in time, it’s just a whole lot.” Vanessa sighed out while putting on blush, the harness was finally unraveled and Brock was fastening the buckles with ease.

“Well, if I know you, you’ll have it done and you’ll look beautiful doing it. Plus, I’ll be there and if you want to take a breather I’ll be right there.” Brock stared at himself in the mirror and clenched his muscles. “Are you sure that you’re not stressing out about an upcoming extended vacation? One that wasn’t so extended months ago?”

“.........You got me.” Vanessa slams the brush down and starts to stressfully brush out her wig, the motion both calming and distracting her from the invasive thoughts. Her first run on Drag Race couldn’t have been worst, she was literally first out. But the outcome couldn’t have been better and for that she was hopeful that she didn’t disappoint anybody this time around. “I don’t wanna fuck up again, Ru is bringing me back for a reason. No one knows what I can do and what if I’m just not good enough?”

“You’re more than enough, J. When you stomp through those doors with those pony legs and slay every challenge, come back with the crown and I’ll have an ‘I told you so’ ready for you.” Brock tries to make meaningful contact through the blurry connection, he only succeeds in seeing her avoid eye contact.

“That’s a real nice thought but I’m not your optimistic ass, this is a really big deal. People don’t just get a second chance, if I don’t kill it that’s just another opportunity wasted.”

“You’ll be fine. Everyone will fall in love with you and you’ll prove yourself.” Brock finally catches her eye and of course there’s that twinkle. He was holding something back, still, and he wasn’t budging. 

“If you say so.”

“Vanjie! You’re on in 2!”

“That’s your cue. I’ll let you go and I guess you’ll catch me in a few weeks.”

“Yeah.... bye Boo.”

The call ended and Vanessa exhaled a deep breath. All the stress from the upcoming convention and also performing was getting to her. People had to have some expectations and she didn’t want to disappoint anybody, and what if she wasn’t what they wanted or expected?

With one final stroke of the brush she set it down and swiped the last of the powder off of her highlight. She got up and danced her ass off for shaking dollar bills and adoring screams. 

Brock on the other hand stared at the ended call with a heavy heart. This was so unlike him that he didn’t even recognize himself, falling for a friend has never happened before. He was always the one that had no emotions, quick and easy, thoughtless and painless was his game, not hanging onto every word uttered and relishing any skin to skin contact.

Watching the whole world fall in love with Vanessa was both bittersweet and fulfilling, now everyone saw what he saw whenever they were in each other’s presence, but that also meant that people appreciated what they saw. Which didn’t help the budding jealousy whenever people put their hands on her, in admiration or lust he didn’t know.

But for now he needed to do his job, so with one last swipe of body glitter he made his way to the stage. 

////////////////

DragCon came and went, despite her nerves Vanessa had a great time, and maybe that had something to do with Brock gyrating his body for hours just across her booth and maybe it didn’t. 

They only got to talk before and after the hours, except for the brief break Brock took. One where he not only flirted shamelessly with every queen he encountered, he also grabbed her ass in the pictures they took. The picture that she definitely didn’t save on her phone, and one he didn’t look at, at least once a day.

As the days leading up to filming got closer, Vanessa scrambled to gather all the costumes that were just barely pulled together within the time constraints and to mentally prepare herself for the arena. Brock helped, like he always does, and stayed in LA for the last two weeks. They had been wig shopping and shoe shopping along with nights full of takeout and Brock fucking him into the mattress or any other surface when his thoughts got too loud. Those nights seemed to get more and more common as the hours counted down, there would be no contact with anybody for his stay.

It was okay the first time, he was only there for a few days and despite not really talking to a lot of people after being eliminated, Brock was one of the few people that encouraged him to let go of the anxiety perpetually bubbling up in his chest. Then the day before filming, they were of course sitting across from each other, and instead of Brock endearingly attacking some homey concoction of food, and him of course ready to wipe his mouth like some nanny, Brock was wringing his hands in his lap and barely speaking.

Instead of a cool, confident demeanor Brock had his shoulders hunched and he could barely keep eye contact for longer than a few seconds. Maybe he was finally ready to get the secret he had been keeping off his chest or maybe he was about to end this whole arrangement or maybe he was dying, either way he didn’t know. 

“Are you cool?”

“Yeah.” Brock’s voice cracks in between the word and he clears his throat before putting on a mask of indifference. “I’m fine. The food is just really good.”

“But you haven’t finished shit, usually you eat like it’s your last meal.”

“I’m alright. We should watch a movie.”

Then the conversation is ended before it could even start, for his own sake Jose doesn’t mention it when Brock’s muscles are tense the whole movie marathon and in the piping hot shower. And it’s only when he is five seconds away from a truly powerful orgasm do the thrusts slow and get more intentional. Every thrust in, is punctuated by a whimper and he grounds himself on Brock’s chest for leverage.

“Hurry the fu-“ Jose can’t finish his sentence because he’s launched into ecstasy and the words die within his throat before they can all fully escape. When he can finally open his eyes, Brock is still there and staring at him with a soft look in his eye.

“What did you say?”

“Shut up.” Brock pulls out and he leans back on the warm sheets. They lay side by side, staring at ceiling with only their slowing heartbeats and pants heard.

“You want some ice cream?”

///////////

When they both settle they don’t stay on their sides of the bed, This was what they were supposed to do, a romance movie marathon, a relaxing shower and some earth shattering sex for memories. Sleep comes easy and before either of them knows it, the time comes for him to put all his luggage in an Uber and say his goodbyes. The tight bear hug and thorough kiss, give him a promise.

Putting on the foundation and lashes with the heavy weight of the wig grounds him, and Vanessa appears. She doesn’t have his issues and he’s hoping to keep it that way when she’s the first to walk in. The backwards walk and subsequent turning over, are all captured by the cameras that watch and zoom in on her. 

“Bitch, I’m back.” The eyelash flutters and hair pats are unnecessary since no one else is in the room but she does it anyway.

The small set up of her hiding behind the partition and watching through a sliver was entertaining and she knew that the faces she made would be even funnier. Meeting all the other queens once she revealed her hiding spot was just as fun the second time, it brought back deja vu to months ago.

Ru comes into the werkroom and the excitement and stress of being in her presence was still there when posing for the photo shoot. De-dragging was interesting and there was a decent amount of attractive boys in the cast, but she couldn’t even focus on them, not when Brock was a permanent fixture in his head. Despite some of them being cute, there was no way a boy was coming in between her and the crown.

After the alumni boxes were selected, the panic set in. She had taken sewing classes but to make a whole garment from some flowery fabric was a whole other thing. She knew that her warnings to Soju were falling on deaf ears, but looking at the tulle-ridden dress she knew that she would at least be safe.

The second day was no better and before she knew it, everyone was painting until Miley revealed herself. There was no time for distractions so she kept her distance and focused on her garment and her wig, then it was time for the runway. The whole ordeal was a blur, she made sure to smile but if asked she had no recollection of the walk or her actions. Then the critiques were given and surprisingly she was in the top.

Praise on the main stage was something she had never gotten, so to see Ru’s face light up with pride made her feel even better. When they went to Untucked, they were prompted to talk about her coming back, and of course some of the other queens were feeling some type of way. She paid it no mind and sucked down the cocktail like she was in the desert, even if she didn’t want to admit it, Brock was right. The judges seemed to love her and she had a huge chance of actually winning a challenge.

When they got back on the stage, it was time to pick the winner. 

“Vanessa Vanjie Mateo, tonight your Valentina inspired outfit made us say ‘We’d like you to keep it on please’. Condragulations, you’re the winner of this weeks challenge.” 

She almost falls from the shock, the prize doesn’t register until she’s smiling into her pillow, hours later in the dark. The smile can’t be wiped from the stage and when she goes to the back, Silky greets her with a hug.

Soju and Kahanna lip sync and Soju goes home, the somewhat sad dinner they have can’t break her spirit, throughout dinner and while she’s brushing her teeth, she knows she shouldn’t but Brock is at the forefront of her mind. Despite the awkwardness and the confusion in her heart he had helped her with everything, every aspect was looked over by his over-analytical brain and perfectionist attitude.

She does well for the next few challenges but never quite makes it to the winners spot again. The critique is always about her outfits and never her performances, too much red or too much glitter, or she’s wearing a leotard and it’s all wrong. Her confidence falters at the constant disappointment, Michelle looking at her with exasperation was becoming too familiar in her dreams, or nightmares.

The LADP challenge happens and it’s the first time she lip syncs, the fear that courses through her body is almost paralyzing but she gets out on the stage and sends Plastique home. Already feeling down she goes into the magic challenge assuming that her mini challenge win will carry her to victory, it doesn’t and she sends Shuga home instead. 

Then the makeover challenge happens and most of the eliminated queens come back and thankfully she gets Ariel, someone who looks like her and has the same build. Whenever Ariel could tear herself away from the wig drama for a few minutes she tailored the gown to her and made sure that their performance was at least serviceable. They walk that main stage and when it comes time for critiques there are none, they loved it and no one else got so much good feedback, it makes her choke up and cry, hearing Michelle’s pride at finally seeming to have a breakthrough.

When they get to Untucked her Mom is there through the tv screen and the tears fall, once again. It gave her the push because this was the farthest she had ever been and to have already won a challenge already was enough for her. Everyone told her that the challenge was hers and despite not being optimistic she thought that too, she didn’t want to jinx it so she didn’t say anything.

“Vanessa Vanjie Mateo, you’re Vanessa and Ariel looks had us speechless. Condragulations, you’re the winner of this weeks challenge.” Ru says in her familiar weighted cadence and for a second time her heart soars.

Going to sleep that night is the most restful she had been since the night before filming. Even going into the final four challenge she feels confident in her rap and in the dancing but when Todrick directs them to the set, she feels nerves. And when they are introduced to the dancers her brain short circuits when her eyes land on Brock’s smiling face.

He’s a dancer. She forgot. Not only was he a dancer he was going to be in the video, and with her for the next two days.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the definition of the idiot plot.

Even with how distracting Brock’s presence was, she still tried to focus on the choreography and getting the moves right in so little time. This performance would literally determine whether she went to the top three or not. Brock seemed to sense the worry within her bones because even with the limited contact they had, he always snuck in a pick-up line and a grab at any available skin with a smile. 

That grin caused her to smile and forget the stress for a few seconds before Silky’s inquisitive gaze would fall on them and she would turn away, knowing that they had been caught too many times to be a coincidence. Of course that also meant that A’keria knew of these encounters and before she knew it, the van ride consisted of her telling them their history and her feelings. Which also meant that they told her how dangerous and stupid it was to fuck somebody you clearly have love for, but like always she closed her ears and continued down the rabbit hole.

The next day came far too early and after a quick rehearsal they got into drag and the music starts. Her first take isn’t the best and in the second her heel breaks, she doesn’t let it show but it causes her to half-ass the lip sync while trying to keep up with the choreo with one heel. Watching Yvie’s runs cause her heart to drop, Brock and every dancer slamming their hands onto the bar to the beat, completely in sync and happy. 

In the final scene of them all dancing and ad-libbing, it consists of everybody moving every way and in the practiced chaos she hopes that nobody notices her broken heel. After cut is called everyone gets out of position and Brock makes a beeline for her from his position, all the way across the stage. He supports her weight before she can say anything and carts her off to some random seating area, practically carrying her smaller body. He sits her down like a toddler and takes the broken shoe off completely while looking at her with a stern eye. 

“I’m fine, you don’t gotta do all this.”

“I can’t believe you would do all of that while this was going on, that’s really fucking stupid J.”

“I’m not a baby.”

“I didn’t say you were, now let me help.”

He walks off before she can say anything else and she feels tears welling up before she stop them, she was basically fucked and there was no way to change anything. They don’t fall because she doesn’t want her makeup to run and because a warm hand on her shoulder brings her out of the spiraling hole she had unknowingly drug herself into. There Brock was, holding up flip flops and an even expression, some would even say an affectionate one. She ignored that look and the million other ones, like usual, there was no way that he felt that way and getting her hopes up would do nobody any good. 

She slides the shoes on and gets out of the seat to change into her final look, they had stopped filming and she had to get ready in less than two hours. Brock tells her where he’s going afterwards, offhandedly, almost like he forgot she can’t leave with him, not just in case she doesn’t make it, even though he tells her that she’s going to win. He leaves her with a kiss and the obligatory, all encompassing hug and it helps with the inevitable. 

They shred her apart when they all get in front of the judges, her lip sync was off and she apparently didn’t bring enough energy, which she agreed to but she didn’t tell them about the heel and just took every critique with a heavy heart. The deliberation seems to take five minutes and when they come back she knows that it’s her time, and when they call her name to lip sync she’s not angry, and when she’s called to go home she does so with pride in herself.

The completely improvised, never ending exit is hard to execute while holding back tears but she manages. Packing up her stuff is easier than last time, everything about this season has been easier the second time around. Filming the final confessional is tearful and she can’t hold back the breaks in her voice when recounting the still fresh memories. When asked about where she wants to go, without thinking she goes to the one person who always seems to help, regardless of the situation or circumstances.

Being swaddled in his arms along with multiple layers of blankets help. Maybe also being told how amazingly talented someone thinks you are while being peppered with soft kisses also helps, but that’s irrelevant. 

Time moves on and she tours with the other season 10 girls and goes all around the world. Brock somehow stays with her for some of that traveling, they had been getting increasingly close, the kisses were longer and the sex was slower and more meaningful, but it didn’t mean anything.

He was sure that Brock was still being a whore and that he was still going to wait for him, so there was no use in thinking about their predicament any longer than necessary. For those three months, he had to endure every joke made at his expense. Silky’s ‘where’s your husband at?’ questions got old faster than milk and every mention of how close and affectionate they were put a damper on his mood immediately, but he continued.

Even the now viral video of her in drag, the loud dressing room full of even louder voices and music, styling and pinning a wig on Brock while he sat there acting as a human wig head, patient and shirtless while laughing with someone off camera, always put a smile on his face when it came up in all the tagged posts for months. Then October came around and the third day was one of his favorite days in the world, his birthday. They always did something special for his birthday, no matter how busy, or sick, or tired they were, they spent their birthdays together. 

The well wishes and gifts were all great and it was a birthday to remember but at the end of night, staring into Brock’s eyes as he revealed the personalized necklace, after arranging a whole party and for his family to visit, was too much. Tears fall and crushing hugs are given while the jewelry is placed on his neck with care, and when his body is treated with reverence and awe for hours he can’t think of a better day. 

It’s only a few weeks later that Brock finally starts to get the courage to confess his feelings, finally. He wasn’t oblivious to the increased domesticity of their arrangement and surprisingly it didn’t scare him to not flirt or hook up with anybody else. This whole relationship thing could be something he liked, even loved. The only problem, was actually telling the person he had fallen in love with.

So he arranged a quiet dinner when they were both free, miraculously, and he nervously sat down. This was the exact feeling he had before almost confessing, months ago, before he went off to film. 

His quiet nature didn’t go unnoticed and the other occupant at the table looked on in dread. Not only was Silky’s comments getting to him, in almost every Instagram and Twitter comment people asked where Brock was and if it wasn’t through social media they would ask in person. He was probably about to end this whole thing, and he felt like his oxygen was about to get cut off.

“I wanted to-, I have som-, I..” Brock can’t finish a sentence and he feels even worse, he was so pathetic that he would actually wait to get essentially dumped. But if he cut it off, there would be no hard feelings, right?”

“I know what you’re gonna say. And I got something to tell you too.”

“You start.” Brock guzzles down the alcohol at the table and starts tapping his thigh.

“.....I wanna date people, so........ I think we gotta end this lil arrangement.” It’s rushed and the exact opposite of what he wants to say, but he does it anyway.

The minute the words leave his mouth he regrets them and watching Brock process his statement is even more heartbreaking. There are too many emotions to decipher in those green eyes but before an attempt can be made they turn cold. His face goes from open and earnest to just, nothing, the tapping has stopped and his hands had gone slack against the table. 

They had taken breaks before, but somehow they always found their way back to each other, this time felt different. He didn’t actually want a boyfriend, well nobody but Brock, but to prevent the rejection that was coming he had to. So why was there a block of ice in front of them now? He didn’t know. 

“Oh.”

That wasn’t the response he expected, or wanted. Brock couldn’t believe that the first time he’s ready to commit and begin a relationship, the other person is ready to move on and find someone better. He couldn’t be the person to hold him back, so from what he can remember, he said something else. Words are exchanged through the fog in his brain.

It set the other man off and before he could even register yelling, they both were, he hoped that they were both saying things that they would regret. The hurtful insults hurled at him are like barbs on an already sore patch of sensitive skin, his equally harmful words can’t be much better. So before things can escalate even more, he makes his way out of the building, but not before he promises to never bother or talk to him again. 

The aftermath is one of the most shocking things he has ever experienced, Brock was supposed to nod and probably breathe out a sigh of relief not look at him with surprisingly confused green eyes. He thought that the taller man was going to do the same, break it off, maybe take a break from each other and get their heads right. Now he was stood, still shaking fists and barely contained rage, just simmering, the loud slam of the door reverberating in his brain.

Unlike their other smaller fights, they don’t make up. Thanksgiving comes and goes, the first time that they don’t plan or do something for that holiday together and the questions are almost as bad as the others absence. It wasn’t like Brock had dropped off the face of the earth, he had to watch, through Instagram stories and lives that he was growing out a beard and seemingly hooking up with every man he encountered. It was immature but he couldn’t force himself to press the send button, on their text message chain, one that hadn’t been answered for almost two months. 

Christmas is an even bigger ordeal, they had both unknowingly ordered gifts earlier, so the gifts arrived at their designated addresses. He doesn’t give the gift he got for Brock and he doesn’t receive one from him either, it was radio silence and it sucked. 

January brings a new romance and he tries, he really tries to fall in love and have fun. It doesn’t work and eventually they break it off before February, when press week and promotions for season 11 start. Finally being able to see everyone and interact without people speculating is a blessing, then the first episode airs. People seem shocked that she won the first episode, given how badly she did her first time around and even though they haven’t spoken in months, Brock congratulates her.

It’s a quick phone call but it’s one that is cherished for weeks. A quiet voice, the echoey reverb of brick wall, and the subtle sound of electronic music, he was probably at some club but the fact that he even called said something, the stilted and somewhat awkward congratulatory call over before it really began. 

Almost like their first encounter, years ago when they were both younger and a little bit more bright-eyed. One just starting out in dancing and the other just getting out of a form of dance. 

But then things change, like most things and life goes on.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first attempt at smut


End file.
